Desecration
by madsthenerdygirl
Summary: Technically they're violating sacred ground, but as long as there's not a 3,000-year-old mummy to punish them for it, all systems are go.


**Title: Desecration**

**Rating: The temple priests wouldn't exactly approve, let's put it that way.**

**Summary: Technically they're violating sacred ground, but as long as there's not a 3,000-year-old mummy to punish them for it, all systems are go.**

**Disclaimer: Where's my personal Ardeth Bay, huh?**

* * *

Evelyn held the torch aloft, casting the light far enough that her husband could see—and eliminate—any potential threats. They hadn't run into any walking, talking, 3,000-year-old mummies (or any other forms of the undead) in any of their subsequent explorations and digs, but it never hurt to be cautious. When they reached a dead-end room and there were still no suspicious sounds coming from within the walls, no mysterious breezes blowing out the torches, or whispered chants echoing in the silence, Rick seemed satisfied and holstered his guns.

"All clear," He declared.

Evelyn stuck the torch in the outstretched hand of a statue. It had probably held a spear or some other weapon, perhaps made of gold, that had long since been looted. She'd seen the signs of ancient looting all along the way, but had held out hope that some hidden chamber or sub level that had escaped the thieves' notice. But now, having seen the entire temple, she had to admit that while the historical importance of the site had remained intact, there were no antiquities to harvest beyond a few stone statues and altars.

"What kind of place do you think this was?" Rick asked, taking in the paintings on the walls.

"Going by the altars and the kind of statues, I would say this was a temple of worship exclusively for the priests. Most likely the priests of Hathor." Evelyn joined him and pointed out the various symbols. "The Eye of Ra is one of Hathor's many forms—she kept watch over the land and informed him of any wrongdoings."

"How many forms did she have?" Rick asked, that fascinated look on his face. Evelyn smiled up at him. They'd been married for a little over a year now, and he still listened to her historical ramblings as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. He was quickly becoming well versed in Egyptology himself, thanks to the many lectures she'd given him.

"Oh, she was very important. She was counterpart to the goddess Sekhmet. Bastet was also a counterpart to Sekhmet—both were goddess of cats. Hathor was one of the most powerful and worshipped goddesses in the Egyptian pantheon."

Evelyn smiled at the paintings on the walls. Maybe there weren't any antiquities (which was always a little disappointing, especially in a temple where scrolls and tablets detailing rituals and beliefs were more important than gold—no matter what Jonathan said), but this was still quite a find. And she'd always had a soft spot for Hathor, even though she knew Isis was generally the more well-known goddess.

Rick made a sound, and she turned, smiling. He had a strange gleam in his eyes, his jaw clenched tightly.

"What?"

She blinked, and found herself up against the wall, Rick's mouth attacking hers. His hands were everywhere, setting her skin on fire, his tongue twisting around hers as his lips drew tiny sounds from the back of her throat. When he finally pulled away, it was only in order to attach his mouth to her neck, sucking hungrily.

"Rick… Rick, what?" Full sentences were already beyond her. It really wasn't fair how quickly he could make her come undone.

"You," He said, bringing his head up and resting their foreheads together. "God, Evie, you being so damn clever and smiling and–"

"My being a bookworm turns you on?" She teased. She'd been so hesitant at the beginning of their relationship, wondering if he'd like what she did. Now she felt confident, the teasing coming naturally, almost without thinking. "You know, they also say that Hathor was the goddess of–"

Rick gave a growl, kissing her and cutting off the rest of her sentence. She gasped into his mouth as the felt herself hoisted up, her legs wrapping around his waist and her hands gripping his shoulders for balance and security.

"We can't—Rick, this is a sacred–"

His mouth trailed downwards, sucking at her pulse as it raged underneath her skin, and she shuddered. Well, as long as ancient priests didn't burst out of the ground...

She pulled him closer, rolling her hips against him, grinning at the groan he gave. She had taken to wearing pants on their expeditions, although she maintained "proper dress" in social settings, and was quickly finding that while they gave her greater mobility they were also doing an excellent job of impeding their progress.

"Rick," She gasped, sounding desperate even to her own ears. "Get these off!"

"Trust me sweetheart, I'm trying," He replied. "Kind of doesn't help when you keep—_fuck_—doing that."

She hummed, trying to keep her hips still.

Finally, _finally_ he got both of their pants undone and _oh_. This angle was perfect. Her back was going to be covered in marks from the wall and Rick's legs were probably going to give out immediately afterwards but _God_ why hadn't they ever done it up against a wall before? He was hitting that perfect spot in her, pushing up against her clit as he moved. She was suddenly incredibly grateful that Jonathan had told them _no thanks, I'll stay at the bar_ instead of coming with because there was no way he wouldn't have heard this. Her cries were bouncing off the walls and Rick wasn't been all that quiet himself—when he wasn't busy creating hickeys, that is.

Evelyn glanced down just as Rick looked up, and her heart did a stuttering flip. He looked absolutely wrecked, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and his face a little red, but his eyes held that possessive, loving gleam that she lived for. It was like he wanted to consume her from the inside out, and she shuddered with pleasure.

Really, the only proper thing to do after that was kiss him.

She came screaming into his mouth, biting down hard and tasting the tangy iron of blood. Their hips flexed and thrust erratically, heat passing from him to her and filling her up until she felt as though her very blood was boiling. Still they didn't freeze, didn't stop until both were utterly spent, only then sliding slowly down the wall into a heap on the ground.

Yes, those were definitely marks forming on her back.

"I don't know where that came from," She mused, "But I definitely want to see it again. Perhaps in a bed next time."

"No promises," Rick grinned, trailing his fingers over her back and frowning as he felt the welts from the wall. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," She promised, letting him turn her over to inspect the damage. She shivered as she felt him press his lips to the marks, soothing them with his tongue. "They'll heal quickly."

"Good."

She turned so that they were facing again, seeing his smile and answering it with one of her own. "So," He asked, glancing around the room. "We're not going to get some kind of curse for doing this in a sacred temple, are we?"

Evelyn considered this. "Normally, perhaps, but seeing as Hathor was the goddess of sexuality and fertility, I think we'll be all right."

"Sexual—you know what, you can tell me when we get back to the hotel."

He hauled her up into his arms and she laughed, the sound ringing through the ancient stone walls.

* * *

Nine months later, Evelyn smiled down at the bundle in her arms. Their little escapade hadn't cursed them, exactly. It had blessed them.

"Goddess of fertility, huh?" Rick murmured into her ear, pressing his chest to her back.

"And childbirth," Evelyn added.

Rick tried to groan, but it ended in a chuckle. In her arms, little Alexander smiled.

* * *

**What the hell? How did plot get in there? Odd.**


End file.
